i could scream forever || open yo

Nikolai took a long draw out of the cigarette he was holding between his fingers. It had been such a long time since he’d given in, but today seemed like good as any to stop being the angel everyone thought he was. Really only his girlfriend cared if he smoked or not, and she wasn’t around to slap it out of his hand and scold him for prematurely killing himself. The nicotine rushed through his veins and gave him a slight buzz, the smoke invaded his lungs as he inhaled, and rushed out when he exhaled. Nik was far enough away from the cabins so that the smoke wouldn’t be a problem for the other campers so long as they stayed away. Anyways, it would be crazy for a camper to be out this early in the morning. It was 3:30 a.m, and the sky was still made of ink, silver flower petals pressed into the background. Nikolai preferred daytime over the night, but it was too risky to smoke when the sun shined. On top of it being ungodly early, it was also frustratingly cold out. The temperature bit into Nik’s fingers and ears and the tip of his nose, turning them red and numb. The demigod thought that he was well protected against the elements, what with a long sleeve shirt, charcoal jacket, dark jeans, and orange chuck taylors plus fingerless gloves. The cold rarely bothered him, and so it was weird that he was shivering.

If people were to ask him why he was up so early, Nikolai would simply say that it was because he couldn’t sleep, but that wasn’t entirely true. Yes, he had problems with sleeping but mostly Nik fell into pits of anxiety and depression and darkness. Usually he could wave off the feeling of impending doom that swallowed him whole and act as if nothing had bothered him. But tonight was particularly bad, and Nik needed an escape. He was already starving himself again, fed up with eating and not being perfect despite being assured by everyone that he was. So the only other alternative that the demigod had was smoking, and so that’s why he was here alone in the dark, shivering against the arctic wind.

Quell could not sleep. It wasn't like this was a new development, he never could sleep. He hadn't slept in months - or at least it felt like that. Sleep was hard for Quell. He had slept like a baby these past couple of months and then suddenly - he couldn't sleep at all. All of his emotions came out at night, when no one was around. At least that's how it was for the first few weeks. Quell allowed himself to get angry, allowed himself to scream in the silencing forest, the trees tirenedess absorbing the sound before anyone could hear him. And then took it's toll, and Quell often passed out for a few hours every night.

It was not like that tonight, not like either of those. Quell was tired, but he knew that he could never try to sleep. All day, the back of his eyes were imprinted with visions of things he wanted to forget. A scream, not his, but a young child's, echoed in his ears. A ghost hand, carrying a ghost knife, tore at his knee, and Quell found himself reaching down to scratch his lower calf. No today Quell did not want to test sleep.

He had always preferred the night anyways, the stillness of it all. Everyone was asleep at night and it was peaceful but it was natural. Quell hated sleeping over in the city when he was a child, it wasn't silent. Night was a time for silence and calm and peace and it seemed unnatural and wrong to disturb that. Tonight, the camp was perfectly calm, the sound of crickets and tree frogs and wind filling Quell's ears. He had sat in the door of the Athena cabin and watched the moon set, but as the moon started to fall overhead, Quell stood up and started to walk. He made his way around camp, past the arena where he spent his childhood training, and the volleyball court, which bore no significance whatsoever to him, and past the Big House, which Quell wasn’t really fond of either. It had held some important memories of himself and his friends as a child, but despite the respect that Quell held for Chiron and the lack of respect he had for Mr. D, the house didn’t really land as anything more than a landmark to Quell. He walked past that too, heading towards the highest point in camp - Thalia’s tree.

Climbing up the hill slowly - Quell still leaned heavily on his right leg and walked with a limp, and hills were impossible for him. He was breathing hard by the time he got to the top of the hill, but between his breathlessness and the lack of lighting, it took Quell a few seconds to realize there was someone else on the hill too - Nik. Sitting down next to him, Quell raised his hand in a greeting. ”Are you smoking Winchester?” Quell asked, cocking his eyebrows and gesturing towards the cigarette in Nik’s hand.

Nikolai did not really expect anyone to come up here at this time of night. Sleep never came easy for him, not after he got out of the clinic. They weren’t horrible to him there, but spending months and months in a white room where they forced you to do something changed Nik. It made him more resilient and more restless. It was near impossible to fall into a deep sleep now, the only time Nikolai actually remembered getting a good nights rest was when Liv came and visited him in the infirmary and they slept together. As the demigod exhaled another puff of smoke he looked at the cigarette and thought of his girlfriend. Livia would smack the thing out of his hand and then for good measure probably smack him too. She would have been completely justified to, because the first time they met she told him that he’d die. At the time, Nik didn’t need to be told that, he knew smoking was a bad habit and so he promised Liv that he’d quit. What he told her was bullshit. Nikolai Winchester was not known for being strong, no matter how brave he told himself he was. Nikolai Winchester was not a hero, no matter how many lives he’d saved. What Nikolai Winchester was was a coward, a timid mouse among ferocious lions. Smoking after he promised he wouldn’t made him even more a coward. The demigod, through his mask of wisdom and new-found happiness, was just tired, He was imploding on himself. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin becoming even more taunt over his bones, evidence that he still wasn’t eating. This was all entirely his fault, not that Nik was going to do anything to change it. If he was going to die, it wouldn’t be because of a monster or because he was protecting someone, it would be by his own hand in a bathroom stall.

The night scared the young boy, as it always had held things that frightened him as a child. Nik was convinced that the boogeyman was out there to get him, he was sure that a robber was going to spring him when he was unguarded and steal what little money he had. He was sure of all the little bad things in the world, and he was sure that they would all happen to him when he was happy with his life and with himself. It was odd for him to be up here then, but it was really the only time Nikolai could smoke without being ridiculed. He thought back to the day when he’d started smoking. The cravings to go in and throw up his lunch was strong, the urge to not eat stronger, but the doctors and nurses were relentless in their quest to get Nik all healthy again, but it didn’t work like that. Nik was sent outside for a bit of fresh air when this kid offered him a cigarette. Nikolai, in his terrible desperation, took it and he’d been hooked ever since. He could argue it was better than anorexia, and in someways in was, and in someways it was just as bad.

When another person came to the hill and spoke, Nikolai jumped, almost dropping his cigarette. He coughed out more grey smoke, which was hardly visible in the blackness. There were a couple minutes where he had to stop hacking out his lungs and regain his composure before he noticed who it was. Quell Malcolm, Livia’s twin brother and notorious for hating Nik. At least, to Nik it seemed like Quell hated him, but maybe that wasn’t the case. Or maybe it was, because the first time they’d met Quell found Liv and Nik sleeping together, and Nik was sure that didn’t leave a good impression on the brother. “Uh huh.” Nik muttered, stuffing the end on the back of his hand. That was how he put out his cigarettes, by burning himself. It was self-punishment. Sure, he got the nicotine flowing through his veins, but at a terrible cost, and the black burns were just part of it. Nik winced, but no tears came to his eyes. “I’d offer you one but Liv’d kill me. Plus you’d kill me.”

Quell sighed, watching Nikolai take another puff of smoke into his lungs. Personally, Quell had never seen the appeal, and he couldn’t really see how other people got addicted to it. Was it really worth it? Quell didn’t think so. He had never understood addiction to anything but knowledge and in a sense, power, but Quell wasn’t one to want that either. Quell didn’t really understand much about alcohol or smoking or drugs, maybe because he had grown up so secluded from the rest of the world, or maybe because he had other ways to forget about the world or have a good time. Both of which he wasn’t very good at. Quell liked to tell himself that it was good to be in control of himself, something that he knew was a trait that both twins shared. Quell happened to be really good at it too, controlling his emotions and reining them in to a small circle of generic body gestures and tones. In a way he was in total control, and Quell liked that, but he couldn’t help feeling anger and frustration that he knew he shouldn’t feel.

In the back of his mind, Quell knew that one day he would explode. He tried to push that to the back of his mind, reminding himself that good leaders weren’t like that. Quell wanted to be a good leader, but he didn’t really want to be a leader. It forced him to interact with people, to do stuff. Quell liked helping, but he was put in the spotlight as the Athena Cabin Leader and that wasn’t always something he wanted to be in. Actually, he never really wanted to be in the spotlight, preferring to stay in the shadows, every once in a while coming out to acknowledge something he deserved recognition for. Quell could stay the underdog, that was fine with him. But instead he found himself pushed into a position of power. It required him to have even more control than he thought he’d need to have, because even if he was in the shadows, someone was watching. Quell might have been a semi decent leader if he had time to figure himself out first, but he was shoved here and he would much rather give up the position of Faye, since she would always be better at it than him.

Quell seemed to have startled the boy, and he coughed, a puff of smoke escaping from his mouth. That wasn’t a child’s cough. It was the cough of a dying man, and Quell froze awkwardly, unsure of what to do, as Nik had a coughing fit. He was glad the darkness concealed his face, torn between sitting down and watching Nik or trying to help him. Quell watched the boy with a face of concern and bemusement as he put out his cigarette on his arm. ”I don’t smoke.” Quell said sharply, and his voice came out harder than he meant it to. ”If you’re trying to hide your smoking from my sister, it might be better not to give yourself new scars.” Quell’s tone was a little bit kinder, or at least less harsh than his other comment. He didn’t know how nice he sounded.